


Four things that change after Dean decides to live (and one that doesn’t).

by chase_acow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Things, M/M, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-12
Updated: 2008-02-12
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:05:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18112919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: found another thing! again, I liked it so I thought why not add it!





	Four things that change after Dean decides to live (and one that doesn’t).

1\. 

Sam dumped his bag in the trunk, sighing and enjoying the last few seconds of time to stretch his legs before they hit the road. There were actually grooves in the seat from the sheer amount of time he’d spent sprawled there in the last three years. The extra day had done wonders for their enforced sleep deprivation, and Sam could finally make Dean head to Sam‘s last lead. He’d talked to another psychic just the other week who confirmed his hunch leading them to the southwest. 

The driver’s door squealed as Dean jerked it open and slouched into the bench seat, arranging his legs under the steering wheel and adjusting his jacket. He threw a greasy paper bag probably containing the grossest breakfast burritos known to man on the seat beside him and started the car. The engine purred to life and - something else.

“Dude!” Sam yelled as he slid into the car filled with music that was not Led Zeppelin. In the dash where the ancient tape deck used to be, there was now a new CD player. It was flashing around a dozen different statistics across the screens and was backlit with blue and red lights. “What is that?”

Dean shrugged, and shifted into reverse, his fingers dancing over the steering wheel. He threw his arm up over the seat and turned so he could back carefully out of the parking space. He kept his eyes on the back window and mumbled, “Just thought I’d try something new.”

Blinking, Sam stared at him open mouthed feeling like his entire world was spinning. After years of hounding Dean about his stone age musical tastes and stereo system, Dean had finally gone out and updated. The CD moved to the next track and a twangy voice started crooning through the speakers. “Is this country?” Sam asked incredulously, hoping he wasn‘t going to have to perform an exorcism on his brother. 

“Outlaw country,” Dean quickly pointed out, speeding into the far lane of the highway without signaling and making a semi honk loudly before it rumbled past them. “I’m an outlaw, thought I might like it.”

He was leaning as far away from Sam as he could get, into the window, and had his right shoulder up to partially hide his face. For a second Sam wanted to make a big deal out of it, pay Dean back for all the teasing he got last month for watching ‘High School Musical’ when there was absolutely nothing else on TV. Then because this time he was the awesome brother, only said, “What else do you got?”

“Evanescence, Maroon 5, and the soundtrack to Juno,” Dean answered reaching under his seat to pull out a white plastic bag to throw on Sam’s lap. He kept his eyes on the road, but darted quick glances at Sam when he thought Sam wasn’t looking. “I think there’s a hookup in there if you wanted to plug your iThing in.”

“’Pod’ Dean,” Sam smirked, sliding down farther in the seat and splaying his knees out. He angled the vents to blow lukewarm air around him. “It’s called an iPod.”

 

2\. 

“Hey, there’s caramel in this,” Sam said surprised, holding the cup away from himself and looking up from his books. He had everything from Navajo traditions and gold miner’s myths to original Pueblo Catholic churches open and spread across the small motel table. When they crossed the border into New Mexico and Arizona tomorrow, he wanted to be able to tell Dean exactly where to go.

They were lucky to have found the Starbucks in the tiny Colorado town they stopped in, and he had really been looking forward to a jolt of caffeine while he finished researching. Figured that Dean would get his order wrong, Sam rolled his eyes, might even have done it on purpose. Dean always got the same boring thing whenever they stopped for coffee.

Dean took the cup back and replaced it with the one he was holding in his other hand. “Sorry,” he said, sipping carefully from his coffee. “Must have mixed them up. Did you know that just stopping at Starbucks, I could have a different flavored drink every day for the rest of my life? Not that that‘s saying much.”

“Dean,” Sam started, sitting up and pushing away from the table. Dean had been acting strangely ever since they’d been dream walking together, but Sam had hoped that they were past Dean pulling his passive death crap.

“I know little bro,” Dean said carelessly, sliding into the seat across from Sam, grinning and kicking his feet up in the other empty chair. “You’re gonna save me. Believe me, I‘m counting on it.”

“Yeah, I am,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes and going back to taking notes. He let the silence settle for a second before he asked, “Wanna tell me why you’re going all Runaway Bride on me?”

“What?”

Sam looked up fixing his eyes on Dean’s, “You know that flick with Julia Roberts where she tries to get married four times but can’t because she doesn’t know what kind of eggs she likes.”

Dean sucked on his tooth for a moment before he picked up a pen to start doodling on the back of one of Sam‘s printouts. “That makes no sense, besides, I know how I like my eggs,” he said and winked at Sam’s scowl, “You know I’m an ‘over easy’ kinda guy.”

Groaning, Sam threw a paperclip that bounced off Dean’s laughing forehead.

 

3\. 

The sun baked into the hard ground causing cracks to shoot across the dry brown soil. Wind and dirt howled outside the window; an eerie whine that started at dawn and wouldn’t let up until dusk. Sam felt sweat roll down the back of his skull, making his hair matt and stick to his neck. Sam was down to just a baggy pair of pants and he was still breathing hard in the afternoon heat. His underarms were tacky with the combined force of dried sweat and his useless deodorant. 

The church was out in the middle of nowhere, a leaning sentinel where no vegetation would grow, with no running water, no electricity. Dean had left him early in the morning before he turned back to town to check out a few more leads. Not even the inner sanctuary retained any hint of cooler air from the night, and Sam still had another two walls to check for secret passageways. 

He had run out of water over an hour ago.

Finally, he heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine slowly making its way down the rutted dirt track and sighed in exhaustion. The chance that Dean had actually thought to bring him anything was probably slim to none, but it would be worth it. This church was it, he’d started having visions the night they crossed the county line, he just needed more time to find the hidden path down to the abandoned demon‘s lair.

“Hey Sammy!” Dean yelled as soon as he’d slammed the car door shut. “I brought you something!”

Relieved, Sam stood up from where he’d been studying the base of an altar. He groaned and pressed his hands into his lower spine, arching back until he heard an audible pop and felt the tension drain from his muscles. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, grimacing when he felt dust and dirt scratch against his skin.

“Back here Dean” he yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway. If only his visions would come in high-def, maybe he’d be closer to an answer by now. Dean was running out of time.

Dean rounded the corner, case of water in one hand and plastic bags in the other. “I got us the makings of a KFC feast here,” he said ginning, and walking to the front table to lay down his offerings. “Hope you’re hungry, cause I got a lot.”

When Sam finally found his tongue, he still had to swallow before he could manage to make his dry throat work. “Man, what are you wearing?” he asked, his voice rising before he could get a hold of it.

Glancing down, Dean raised both eyebrows high, letting his forehead wrinkle in confusion, “What, dude? In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s fucking hot out here.”

Dean was wearing a long pair of khaki shorts, his legs poking out the bottom were fluorescent white from a lifetime spent encased in blue jeans. The hair covering his shins was a light brown tinged with red, and trailed down to his sock clad ankles. Sam thought they looked oddly vulnerable in the light, the tops of his boots bending away and sliding down with untied laces.

 

4\. 

In the early morning hours of what could be Dean’s last day on Earth, neither of them could sleep. Sam sighed and turned over in the uncomfortable hotel bed; he stayed on his other side for so long that his hip had actually fallen asleep. In the other bed, Dean punched his pillow into a feathered ball before pushing his face into the middle of it.

“Sam?” Dean asked a little while later, his voice muffled by the pillow still covering his mouth and nose.

“Yeah Dean?” Sam answered blowing up a stream of air to move his hair off his forehead. They hadn’t talked much the previous day; they hadn’t needed to as they worked side by side on their final preparations. All they’d have to do now was wait out the day until they could face the crossroads and the church that night.

Dean flopped in his bed, making the box spring groan in protest at the shift of his weight. It squealed again as his feet thudded to the ground and he stood up, his shoulders blocking most the light sneaking past the curtain. He took two steps across the space between their beds and roughly climbed over Sam’s body, knocking him over and making sure to let his knee land lightly in the middle of Sam’s stomach.

“I think Matthew McConaughey is hot,” Dean said stealing more than half of Sam’s pillow and scratching him with his toenails. He let the back of his hand rest against the side of Sam’s bare chest gently at first, and then with more pressure as he let out a breath.

Turning, Sam bent his knees until they brushed up against Dean’s thighs. “So?” he said softly, whispering in the night knowing the darkness would cover the blush staining his face. “Everyone thinks he’s attractive.”

“I think you’re attractive.”

Sam squirmed under Dean’s gaze, ready to roll out of bed and retreat to the other side of the motel before things got any weirder. Before he could get any further than pushing himself up on his elbow, Dean had wrapped his arms around Sam’s chest and pulled him over. Sam looked down at Dean with wide eyes, his muscles straining to keep himself lifted up off the bed. “Dean what are you doing?” he asked, his voice hoarse and catching in his throat.

“Going after something that I want Sammy,” Dean said simply, one side of his mouth curling up in a grin while he ran one hand up to tug on the back of Sam’s hair. He lifted one leg to run up Sam’s ribs, “I wanna kiss you.”

Sam could count on his fingers the number of times that Dean had ever asked him for anything his entire life. It was always Dean doing without or going out of his way for Sam. He’d never wanted to ask Dean for this, too afraid that Dean would say ‘yes’ because that was what Dean did, more than that Dean would say ‘no’. 

“You can kiss me, Dean,” Sam says surprised, relaxing against Dean’s body and feeling the razor sharp edges of his brother pressing against his flesh. “You can do anything.”

 

5\. 

The morning of Dean’s three hundredth and sixty-sixth day dawned bight and painful across the desert. Around them, the ruins of the church were still smoldering and below them, Sam could hear the dying howls of demons cheated from their prey. He fell to his knees, scrubbing his hands over his face and across his eyes wiping away the tears pouring down his cheeks.

Beside him, Dean crowed into the morning, punching one arm up into the sky and reveling in the fresh air. He looked down at Sam and grinned, “Stop being such a fucking girl Sam, and let’s go get some burgers.”

**Author's Note:**

> found another thing! again, I liked it so I thought why not add it!


End file.
